


Sharpshooter

by starryeyedchar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Fake Character Death, Injured Lance (Voltron), Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Protective Keith (Voltron), Sharpshooter Lance (Voltron), Worried Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 23:50:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12444681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedchar/pseuds/starryeyedchar
Summary: The silence from Lance's com link wasn't what bothered Keith.The first time he went completely quiet, it'd freaked the entire team out. He was supposed to be the loud, obnoxious one. But in time, they grew to know that a silent Lance meant a focused one. It meant he was taking out sentries with his gun while he hid somewhere above them.So the lack of noise was nothing new, at least not in their current setting.What interrupted the quiet, however, was the source of everyone's panic.Or the team splits up on a mission, and things don't go well for Lance.





	Sharpshooter

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy my belated celebration for National Writing Day!

The silence from Lance's com link wasn't what bothered Keith.

The first time he went completely quiet, it'd freaked the entire team out. He was supposed to be the loud, obnoxious one. But in time, they grew to know that a silent Lance meant a focused one. It meant he was taking out sentries with his gun while he hid somewhere above them.

So the lack of noise was nothing new, at least not in their current setting.

What interrupted the quiet, however, was the source of everyone's panic.

The sound of Lance's breathing became a constant the rest of the team got used to as he took out sentries from afar, while the others talked back and forth over the coms. It was reassuring on missions like this, when they all split up.

Then, suddenly, Lance's breath hitched. “Oh, _quiznak_ ,” he whispered softly. Only two words, but it set the everyone on edge immediately.

The others began bombarding Lance with questions, but Keith didn't want to give away his own position, as there were a few Galra soldiers nearby. So he held his tongue, and hung onto every word out of Lance's mouth.

Unfortunately, there weren't many.

“This is very, very bad,” came Lance's voice, in a panicked whisper. “I'm attempting to switch locations now, but I think they know where I—”

The sound of a gunshot echoed from his end of the coms before giving way to static, and Keith clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from shouting. Lance's bayard, when taking it's rifle form, did _not_ make that loud of a noise. A fact the others knew by now. So they'd just heard someone else's weapon. Someone else firing close enough to Lance's head that they heard it, loud and clear.

The team was in stunned silence for a moment.

“L-Lance?” Hunk called first, his voice shaking horribly.

“Lance, come in,” Shiro tried. “We need to know what happened. Are you okay?”

The feedback had stopped, but there was nothing else on his end. Keith opened his mouth to speak, but then they heard it.

“Well, what do we have here?” said the unmistakable, deep voice of a Galra. All of them tensed.

There were some shuffling noises, and then quick footsteps.

A minute or so passed where Keith could do nothing but listen to the noises from the earpiece, but Lance didn't make a sound.

From his hiding spot, Keith saw another Galra walking into the room. He was still mostly concentrating on trying to hear something from Lance, but then he looked over to the new Galra soldier and... his vision _tunneled_.

Clutched in his purple, clawed hands was a very familiar someone in bright blue armor. The visor of his helmet was cracked, the red bayard missing. One of his arms was lying on his stomach, the other hanging limply. His eyes were shut.

Keith felt like someone had just taken his whole world and knocked it out from under him. His eyes narrowed, and it took everything in him to resist rushing forward because _that's Lance, get your hands off of him._

The soldier dumped Lance unceremoniously on the ground, and grinned.

“Look who I found, sneaking in the upper levels. He thought he could just destroy sentry after sentry without consequences.”

“The question is, are his little friends here, too?” asked the second Galra. He snatched Lance's helmet, and raised it to his lips. “Hello, paladins of Voltron. We've killed your blue friend, and you're next.”

The words echoed in Keith's ears even as he heard them in person. There was a strangled gasp from Shiro, an immediate anguished shout of from Pidge, and Hunk just cried that “It's not true. It can't be true. Lance is _fine_.”

The Galra lowered the helmet. “Are you absolutely sure he's dead?”

“If you'd like to check his pulse yourself, you're welcome to.”

Keith knew he wouldn't believe it until he could assess the damage himself but... Lance was completely unresponsive.

The second Galra rolled Lance over, and Keith couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips.

There was so much blood, Keith couldn't even tell where it was _coming_ from. All he could see was _red._

And Keith had never hated the color so much in his life.

The Galra were conversing over Lance's body, debating over who should call Zarkon, so thankfully they didn't hear Keith. He couldn't hear them either, over the blood rushing in his ears. It was as if nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. Because Lance was dead.

“No...” he whispered, still not believing it. There was just no way. It wasn't possible. Lance was supposed to be all smiles, laughter, and poorly timed jokes. The image of him lying on the ground like that...

Keith wouldn't have seen the movement, if he hadn't been staring at Lance's seemingly lifeless body so intently.

Lance's head tilted to the side to face Keith, and then his eyes opened. Very, very slowly, revealing the deep blue that he never thought he'd see again.

Lance's eyes weren't blank, weren't dead to the world. He definitely looked pained, but still Lance. He wasn't gone.

Not yet. Not if Keith had anything to do with it.

Lance's gaze fixed on him, a small smile flashed across his face, and then he winked.

The idiot had the audacity to _wink_ at Keith.

Then he closed his eyes again, expression going slack, and Keith realized that Lance was just playing dead.

Smart, because if he wasn't pretending to be dead they _definitely_ would've killed him.

Keith remembered how to breathe again.

“Shame you killed him,” muttered the second and bigger Galra. He nudged Lance with his foot, and Keith clenched his fists. “Zarkon would've been pleased to have one of the paladins of Voltron to interrogate.”

The other shrugged. “It's not my fault these 'humans' die so easily. Besides, you know he wouldn't have talked. If Haggar wanted to dissect him, she can just do it anyway. It'll probably be easier now, and I'm sure _he_ won't mind.”

Keith surged forward immediately, those words ingrained into his head. He activated his bayard in his right hand, and his blade in the left. There was _no way_ he was about to let anything of the kind happen.

The two turned toward him, and he abruptly became aware that fighting off two Galra at once was... maybe not his smartest ideas.

Thankfully Lance acted immediately, summoning his bayard and shooting both in quick succession.

They crumpled to the ground and Keith was at Lance's side in a heartbeat, hands hovering over his torso.

“There's... there's so m-much blood,” he stammered. “Where'd... where'd they—”

“It's just my side. I'll be fine as soon as I can get to a pod,” Lance assured him. He attempted standing up but quickly fell forward, so Keith picked him up instead.

“Did... you hear what they said? They were... they were going to... Haggar—”

“They didn't,” Lance cut him off, leaning his head against the other's chest. “It's good to know that you'd look out for me, though, even if I was dead. You really are the best.”

It took Keith a minute to register what he'd said, and once he did Keith couldn't form a full sentence, his face going bright red. “Are you... am I... _what_?”

“I'm probably just delirious from pain,” Lance muttered, closing his eyes. “And blood loss. So don't get your mullet all bent out of shape.”

“That... that doesn't even make any sense!”

Lance laughed softly, the sound sending warmth coursing through Keith. Lance was alive. He was safe. “You've saved me all over again, Keith,” he said quietly. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, sharpshooter,” Keith told him, and he meant it.

 


End file.
